


Crush Denial

by Angearia



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Comedy, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-06-10
Updated: 2009-06-10
Packaged: 2017-10-03 06:30:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angearia/pseuds/Angearia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Buffy had gone to the Bronze and seen Spike and Dru dancing in <em>Crush</em>?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crush Denial

**Author's Note:**

> This is a short fic for [](http://easy-to-corrupt.livejournal.com/profile)[**buffy_the_vamp6**](http://easy-to-corrupt.livejournal.com/) who wondered if there was any fic out there with Buffy watching Spike and Dru dancing in the Bronze during _Crush_.  This is a quickie and unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine.  Hope you enjoy it, hon!

Buffy awkwardly breezed through the crowd at the Bronze.  The bouncer had said he’d seen a Billy Idol wannabe come in about 30 minutes ago.  Part of her wanted to stop looking, just turn around and go home.  She’d tell her mom and Will that she couldn’t find him.  That she’d tried _really_ hard but he’d eluded her. 

 

Yeah.  Right.  They’d see through her in two seconds flat.  She had a mission and she was going to see it through, even if it made her want to hurl when she thought about it.  She was Buffy the Vampire Crush.  Ugh, she’d like to crush him alright.  Crush his sick and twisted perviness at even wanting to…no, even thinking of wanting to be with her.  Ew.

 

God, what did it say about her that Spike “loved” her?  Spike.  With his gross smoker’s breath and the wardrobe that amounted to a single pair of black jeans and matching t-shirt.  Did he even own other clothes?  And that hair…well, okay the hair looked good.  It suited his face, but no!  Not good.  Gross.  Disgusting and gross and wrong. 

There was nothing good about Spike.  Sure maybe he was handy in a fight.  Sometimes.  He was really strong too which was a total asset now that a Hell God was hunting after her sister.  And he had the most amazing cheekbones…Gah!  Bad mind, stop it!    

 

Buffy rose up on her tiptoes to look out over the crowd, then pouted in frustration.  Sometimes her lack of height deal was a total downer.  She climbed the stairs leading up to the loft overlooking the dance floor and scanned the bodies gyrating to the beat.  Nope, no Spike.

 

As she turned to leave, a flash of white on black caught her eye.  There.  He was right there and…Drusilla?  Oh god.  The killings on the train.  It’d been a welcome home party for Spike’s crazy ex.  Dru was back and causing trouble in her town.  Great, just great.  Like she needed another crazy vampire hanging around causing her headaches and what did Spike think he was doing right now dancing with her like _that? _

 

It was indecent.  He was practically humping Dru into the dance floor.  Only seductively.  His hands were slowly stroking over her hips and across her rib cage, caressing her body, leading her into each turn of his hips.  People didn’t dance like that.  That wasn’t dancing.  She knew dancing and that – not it. 

 

Buffy finally remembered to breathe, taking in deep and desperate gulps of air as she stared helplessly.  Her skin began to tingle as she watched Spike lean in to kiss the curve of Dru’s neck before rising up to nibble her earlobe, his hands tracing along her collarbone before moving down to grip her hips, pulling her back firmly into him.  They moved together to the slow undercurrent beat of the music, eyes closed and perfectly in tune with each other.

Buffy’s mouth opened slightly, her breathing shallow as she examined the expression on Spike’s face.  She’d never thought of him as sensual before.  Annoying, yes.  Infuriating, absolutely.  Stupid and pathetic, double yes.  But sensual?  No.  Not until now.

 

 He looked so completely in tune with every move of his body and, even more importantly, the slightest nuance from the woman he held in his arms, like he was cherishing every experience.  Spike was a hedonist.  She’d never thought so before but it made sense.  Vampire.  Pleasure.  It all added up.  Except for the part where he looked like he was worshipping at the altar of womanhood.  She was pretty sure the good book frowned on public acts of raunchy sex. 

 

Buffy shivered suddenly, her skin unbearably hot.  She had to get out of here.  She just had to get away.  Here was bad.  Very bad.  Turning quickly, she bumped into a couple standing near the top of the stairs and muscled past them, rushing down to the main level.  She tripped on the last step and fell into a pair of lanky arms.

 

“See something you like, babe?” the man laughed, grinning over her shoulder at his friends.

 

Buffy looked up into his face dazedly before sneaking a panicked glance at the dance floor.  “No, not like.  Most definitely no.”

 

“Aw come on.  You sure?  Maybe you wanna dance?”

 

Buffy’s mouth firmed and her eyes went cold.  “No, I don’t want to _dance_.  Not with you.”

 

Mr. Lanky lifted his hands defensively.  “Okay, okay.  I get it.  Just thought you might be looking for a good time.”

 

Buffy shook her head silently and walked away, arms crossed defensively over her chest.  She most definitely did not want to dance.  Not tonight.  Not ever.

 

She was almost 100% sure she didn’t want to dance.


End file.
